Broken & Beautiful
by IsisIzabel
Summary: Set during episode 1 of season 2 "Reconstruction" . Heather tells Jake what happened to her in New Bern and how she made it out alive. Pairings: Jake/Heather; Heather/Eric friendship. *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

**Broken & Beautiful**

By: IsisIzabel

**I**

"_Hey."_

Heather turned her head, her eyes unfocused.

Jake's eyes narrowed slightly. "You all right?" His hand touched her elbow lightly.

"I'm fine," she answered after a stilted pause. She chuckled softly and repeated, "I'm fine." She blinked away the memory that had slammed into her like a train and focused on Jake's face. God, she'd missed him.

Jake's hand lifted again to touch her cheek and he smiled, looking at complete ease.

It took all her willpower not to lean into his touch. Instead, Heather smiled up at him and waited for him to make the next move.

Jake's hand dropped away and he tilted his head. "Want to go for a walk?"

She shrugged, still smiling and followed him outside, but not without a backwards glance at the man in custody.

The sun was still high in the Midwestern sky as she and Jake stepped outside of the Town Hall. She followed him down the steps, neither saying a word as they fell into step.

Heather noted the Jennings & Rall building on the far corner of the street. "How long have they been here?"

"Since the war with New Bern ended," Jake replied, his tone laced with bitterness. He cast a disparaging glare at the line of people waiting to talk to a representative.

Heather winced and touched Jake's arm, stopping him in the middle of the street. She self-consciously tucked a lock of brunette hair behind one ear. "Jake, I heard about your dad. I'm so sorry."

Jake shifted his gaze somewhere over her left should and gave a quick nod, a muscle in his jaw straining as his teeth clenched. "It never should have happened."

She blinked and looked down at the street. "I know. And I'm so sorry that—"

He suddenly gripped her shoulders with both hands, startling her into looking up. His eyes were serious, his expression grim. "You did everything you could. Eric … Eric told me about what happened."

Her hands came up to grip his biceps as she struggled against the swell of panic in her chest. "Jake—"

"Oh, God."

Heather and Jake both turned their heads at the sudden appearance of someone beside them. Heather stepped back out of Jake's hold and looked at Eric.

Looking like he'd seen a ghost, Eric stepped towards her slowly. His eyes swept her. "Are you—how can you be here?"

Heather closed the distance between them and surprised both Green brothers by throwing her arms around Eric, who wasted no time returning her hold.

Jake folded his arms over his chest, watching with obvious interested, as his brother's forehead dropped to Heather's shoulder.

"I thought you were dead," Eric muttered softly.

Heather nodded, stepping back. She tried to force a bright smile and a laugh. "Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated." She winked at him, trying to vain to be playful.

Eric's expression was grave. "I saw—" He broke off, shaking his head.

Heather's expression grew somber. "Eric—"

He looked up, tears bright in his eyes. "I saw your jacket. Constantino…gave it to me. It was all bloody and—"

Her eyes slid shut in agony, thinking how she would have felt had the situation been reversed. "It was all a set-up, Eric. The deputy who came and took me—we grew up two streets down from each other. He told me to give him my jacket, to help make Constantino believe I was dead. Then he told me to run."

Eric rubbed his eyes. "I should have protected you."

"Eric, you were locked in a cell on the other side of the room. You did everything you could," Heather assured him quietly, aware that Jake was slowly inching over to them. Heather waved her arm at Main Street. "Obviously you did what we were trying to do—you stayed alive and warned everyone here about New Bern. Otherwise this place wouldn't be standing."

Eric nodded slowly, rubbing his eyes once more with the heel of his hand. "I need to go—Mary's expecting me." He touched her shoulder, and then pulled her into another hug. "I'm really glad you're OK."

Heather nodded against his shoulder and watched as he pulled away. "I'll see you later."

Eric ducked his head, briefly meeting Jake's gaze, before heading off towards _Bailey's_.

"So that's how you managed to get away."

Heather turned back to Jake and shrugged. "I got lucky. Constantino didn't know that Joey—the deputy had ordered to kill me—knew me from when we were kids. Not all of the people who crossed Constantino got so lucky."

Jake's eyes narrowed. "You knew that guy in custody."

She nodded, starting to walk again with him beside her. "He was a deputy, and a nasty one at that. He had no problem following Constantino's orders."

Jake licked his lips thoughtfully. "What happened to you? After you and Eric were caught?"

Heather drew in a deep breath before casting him a sideways glance. "How much did Eric tell you?"

"That you and him were caught trying to break the machine that made the mortars. Then they threw both of you in jail. And that you'd been…" He hesitated. "That you were—"

"Dead?" she offered.

Jake met her gaze. "Yeah."

"It's a long story," she sighed softly, looking away.

He reached for her, his hand closing around her wrist. His thumb rubbed a light circle into the delicate flesh on the inside of her wrist. "I've got time."

Heather stopped and looked up at him. She bit her lower lip, considering. There was a sudden darkness in her eyes he'd never seen before. "OK."

Jake took her gently by the elbow and led her to a wooden bench shaded under an old oak tree near the church. He waited for her to sit before speaking. "So what happened?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Broken & Beautiful**

By: IsisIzabel

**II**

**-New Bern, Kansas-**

_Five Weeks Earlier_

Head down, Heather hurried down the sidewalk as fast as she could, wishing like hell she hadn't gone to the east end of the factory, let alone discovered what was being kept there. She didn't think anyone had seen her, but they'd definitely heard her. She's been forced into hiding underneath an empty packing crate, wedged between a cinderblock wall and an old metal filing shelf. Her back and legs ached from the tucked position she'd assumed for nearly an hour before she'd had a chance to run.

The sun was setting against the steeple of the New Bern Baptist Church at the far end of town as she turned sharply down a back alley she'd played hopscotch in as a child. It was the quickest route to _Hammond's Shoe Repair_. Mr. Hammond had died shortly before the bombs, and Constantino had given the Jericho men use of the two upstairs apartments for the duration of their stay in New Bern while the turbines were being built.

She needed to get to Eric and the others.

Heather could see the sign a hundred yards away to the back entrance now, and felt a sense of relief. The knot of dread that had coiled tightly in her stomach hours earlier was slowly loosening. She shivered hard, not sure if it was the cold or her nerves. She came to the spot where the alley converge with another and never saw the other person coming.

They collided hard, and she nearly fell over, but strong hands steadied her. Instinctively, she started to pull away, not seeing the person that held her.

"Heather."

She looked up, stunned. She had expected it to be anyone but him. It could have been Constantino, one of his lackeys, or another New Bern resident that was looking for her, but not Eric Green. Not that she was complaining.

"You OK?" he asked softly, his eyes looking at her, but not seeing. They looked haunted, exhausted. His hands were smeared with grease, his beard unkempt and slightly matted.

Stanley had told Heather about April's death, and Heather had watched Eric walk around like the living dead for the past week he'd been in New Bern. He completed his jobs, but never stayed to talk or go to the pub when the night forced everyone to abandon the factory. He kept to himself, isolating himself from the group. Stanley had referred to it as, "Eric's self-imposed exile."

Until two days ago when he'd come to her with a question. He'd stumbled across a map of Jericho while on a supply run to the far end of the factory. It was an enlarged map of Jericho with the farm boundaries marked out in bright red pen. But he'd only seen it in passing, and hadn't been able to get a clear look. He'd asked her if she'd known anything about it.

She hadn't, but it had intrigued her and she'd finally gotten her chance to get her own look at the map. And she'd found the working machine. And the supply room. And suddenly it all made sense.

"We need to talk," Heather answered with a tight strain in her voice.

Eric blinked, as if suddenly realizing Heather was in front of him. His eyes narrowed slightly and his head tilted a bit—a look she'd seen of Jake's face once or twice. "The map?"

She nodded.

"What'd you find out?" he asked quickly.

"Not here," she replied swiftly, looking around. "We need to—"

A sharp, loud knock cut her off. Both she and Eric turned to see Russell and one of Constantino's deputies standing outside _Hammond's_. Heather swallowed and grabbed Eric's arm, dragging them both into the shadow of an overflowing dumpster.

"Heather, what—"

"Shh!" she hissed, making a swift chopping motion with her hand.

They both watched as Stanley opened the door, an easygoing smile on his face. "Hey, Russell," he greeted.

"Stanley," Russell nodded. He cast a sideways glance at his partner. "How's it going?"

Stanley leaned against the doorframe, his body taking up most of the space. "Good. What's going on?"

The deputy folded his arms over his chest and looked pointedly at Stanley. "Have you seen Heather?"

Heather's eyes slid shut and she leaned against the brick wall behind her. "Shit," she muttered. They had seen her.

Eric nudged her. "What?"

She shook her head, concentrating on the men a couple dozen yards away.

Stanley was shaking his head. "No. She usually stops by before heading to her place. Why?"

"Just needed to ask her something," the deputy replied evasively. "You all have a good night."

Stanley shut the door, leaving Russell and the deputy alone.

"Harry, this is wrong," Russell said quietly, shaking his head.

Harry poked Russell hard in the shoulder with his index finger. "Constantino's orders. We need to find the Lisinski girl."

"We don't even know if she knows anything!" Russell argued.

"But she might. We can't have her telling the others," Harry snapped coolly.

"Telling us what?" Eric whispered in Heather's ear. She pressed a finger to her lips, silently pleading with him to be quiet.

"It's still wrong," Russell said finally, shaking his head. "I don't care how we justify it."

"It's us or them, Russ," Harry hissed. "How many people have we lost in the last few months? Constantino's right—help isn't coming. If we want to survive another year, we need to start taking what we need. Right and wrong don't matter. Survival matters."

"You sound just like him," Russell sighed sadly.

"You don't have to like what we're doing. But you better not get in our way. Be a shame if something happened to your wife… or your pretty little girl."

Russell had Harry pinned to the wall before anyone could blink. "Do _not_," he ordered through clenched teeth, "threaten my family." He let Harry go and took several steps back. "I know what I have to do. But that doesn't mean I have to agree with it."

Harry snorted. "You just keep an eye on those Jericho guys. It's better if they don't start snooping around like the girl."

Russell stiffened. "What are you going to do?"

"We'll deal with Heather when we find her." Harry replied cryptically. He turned and started down the opposite way of the alley. Russell paused for a minute, standing in the middle of the cobblestone alley with his hands on his hips. It took a moment, but he eventually turned to leave.

Heather didn't breathe again until he was out of earshot. She turned to see Eric staring down at her, worried.

"Heather, what's going on?"

"I saw something I wasn't supposed to see," Heather muttered, lifting her hand to her mouth and chewing her thumbnail. "And they know I saw it. Shit."

"What did you see? Did you see the map?" Eric asked anxiously.

She stopped biting her nail and lowered her hand. "I saw what they're planning to do."

Now whatever patience he had was slipping. Irritation flashed in Eric's brown eyes. "What are they—"

"They're planning on invading, Jericho."

Eric chuckled, disbelieving. "What are you talking about?"

Heather shook her head, fear in her eyes. "Eric, they converted the east end of the factory into a place to build mortars."

"Mortars?"

"I saw them. And a cannon."

"A cannon?" he repeated slowly.

"I saw the map, up close. It had an inventory of Jericho—what farms supply what crops. That kind of stuff."

Eric shook his head. "Heather, why would New Bern attack Jericho? The mortars are a good idea—probably for defense purposes. You know that Ravenwood showed up here and hit them hard. They want to be prepared. And of course they have a food inventory of us. We agreed to give them ten percent of next years' crops for the turbines."

She gaped at him. It never occurred to her that he wouldn't believe her. Did he really believe that? She squared her shoulders and arched an eyebrow. "Eric, you asked me to look into it! You've seen the map! You knew something was off with this."

"But…" he trailed off. "I never… Why would New Bern start a war with Jericho?" He shook his head. "This can't be right."

"Why are they looking for me then?"

Eric frowned.

"How exactly do you think Harry's going to 'deal with' me?" she demanded.

He looked less sure. "Heather—"

"Dammit, Eric!" she snapped finally. "I'm _not_ crazy! I know what I saw! And I know what I heard! Haven't you noticed the way people shut up when you walk into a room? I grew up in this town, and for the past two weeks I've been treated like an outsider. Because they're planning on using those mortars on Jericho. And now they know that I know."

"I just can't believe—"

"Believe it, Eric!"

Eric stared down at her and folded his arms over his chest. "Let's say you're right. Let's say New Bern is going to invade Jericho. We need to go get Stanley and the others and get out of town. Tonight."

"Then you believe me?"

"I heard the same thing you did," Eric admitted. "That guy—Harry—is looking for you. And I think I'd rather he not find you. And I'll admit that I'm still not sure about the map. Something about it is—"

"Hinky?" Heather supplied.

"Hinky?" he repeated dubiously. He shrugged. "OK. _Hinky_. Which is why now would probably be a good time to leave."

"No. I'm not leaving," Heather insisted.

Eric looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "Did you not hear what I said? What Harry said? They're looking for you. We need to get you out of New Bern."

"I'm not leaving until I know they aren't going to start shooting those mortars at Jericho," Heather pushed. She took several large steps backwards.

"Where are you going?" Eric asked slowly, his voice tired.

"The factory."

"Wait—_what_?"

"I'm going to stop them," Heather said, steely resolve in her voice. "I don't know how, but if I can dismantle the machine they're using to build the mortars—"

Eric shook his head. "This is a bad idea. We should just leave. We can be home before they know we're gone."

Heather sighed, standing in the middle of the alley, the tip of her nose pink from cold and her eyes bright with tears. "Eric, I helped them get the factory back up and running. I _helped_ them. That means I'd be helping them destroy Jericho. I can't… I need to do this."

"And you need to do this tonight?"

"They're looking for me, Eric. That means I don't have much time before they either find me, or work faster to do... whatever it is they're doing."

"OK, OK!" He raked a hand through his disheveled hair. "Let's get the others and we'll go with you."

Heather laughed softly. "I think they'd notice a dozen of us going into the factory, even if it is at night. I can get in and out faster by myself. And I know that factory."

"Well, I'm not letting you go by yourself," Eric snapped, walking towards her. "So if you're going, so am I."

She tried to smile. "And they say chivalry's dead."

"Heather—"

She laid a hand on his arm. "Thank you, Eric."

"I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around this," he admitted. "This time last year the biggest difference we had with New Bern was who would be going to the State Championship."

"You'll believe me when you see the factory," she assured him quietly, solemnly.

He nodded slowly. "OK. Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

**Broken & Beautiful**

By: IsisIzabel

**III**

**-New Bern, Kansas-**

_Five Weeks Earlier_

"Jesus."

Eric's voice came out in a breathy, horrified whisper as he surveyed the supply room at the east wing of the factory. Shelves of crates, each containing two dozen mortars apiece, lined the room. All in all, he guessed it was about a total of twenty crates. Maybe a few more than that.

"Eric," Heather whispered urgently, touching his hand with her shaking fingertips.

He turned and looked in time to see a light bobbing down the far end of the hall. His fingers laced with hers and he pulled her down to the ground with him, dragging her to the far wall where they hid out of sight.

Three men came walking passed, their excitement filling the air with a nervous sort of tension.

"So we're really doing this," the first one with the cowboy hat announced with something akin to glee.

"Try not to sound to excited, Ken," the second with the flashlight snapped. "We're talking about killing hundreds of innocent people."

"Jericho didn't so much as bat an eye when they sent Ravenwood our way," the third snarled. "They're anything but innocent. They're lucky Constantino's even going to give them an option. If it were me—"

"You'd destroy the town with mortars until there wasn't anything left," Ken laughed. Their voices began to fade as they walked passed.

"Let's just get this meeting over with," the second cut in sharply.

"Easy, Jesse," the third chuckled. "It'll be all over soon enough."

They disappeared around the corner, leaving Eric and Heather still hidden. Eric turned and looked at Heather's ashen face, paled even more by the silvery moonlight that cast dark shadows across the cement floor.

"Is this a bad time for an 'I told you so'?" she asked weakly.

Eric realized he was still holding her hand in his and squeezed it with what he hoped conveyed reassurance. He slowly stood, pulling her up with him, but keeping them tight against the wall. He turned to her, their heads close in the darkness. "I'm going to follow them." He let her go and took a step away.

Her eyes widened. "You're _what_?" She grabbed his jacket and stopped him.

"I need to know what they're planning. So I can go back and tell my dad and the others." Eric's lips pursed into a thin, grim line that was nearly obscured by his beard. But there was no mistaking the stubborn resolve that gleamed in his eyes. Heather was sure it was an inherited Green trait.

"Well I'm coming with you," she sputtered.

He frowned deeply. "No, Heather. You're safer here."

She leaned away from him, setting her hands on her hips. "I'm not letting you go by yourself. So if you're going, so am I."

He could have throttled her for using his own words against him. He drew in a deep breath and stared at her before slowly shaking his head. "And they say chivalry's dead," he deadpanned.

She couldn't hide the grin that curved her lips up despite the gravity of their situation. She shrugged and followed him quietly down the hall, following the sound of voices. Keeping to the shadows, they came upon the old locker room, illuminated by kerosene lamps. Heather could distinguish at least a dozen different voices, and finally one rising above them all.

"OK, let's get this meeting under way," Phil Constantino bellowed above the buzz of the crowd.

Heather could hear chairs scraping against the cement and noises as everyone settled. They had a slight view of the room through a four inch crack between the door and its frame. She could make out what she assumed was Constantino's shoulder and then a chalkboard as it was wheeled out.

Her breath caught as someone turned the chalkboard around and revealed the map of Jericho that had started this whole ordeal. She felt Eric stiffen beside her, his tension palpable. They were only able to see part of the map, but it had been reconfigured and drawn over with angry red lines. She could vaguely make out the middle of Constantino's name stamped over the land that was designated 'Richmond Farm.'

Constantino began the meeting: "This is the revised plan. Once we've secured the farms of Jericho and ensured that the people are sequestered into the center of town, we'll begin moving our people over. Between the three farms New Bern has and the ten we'll assume command of in Jericho—"

Eric turned to Heather, horror in his eyes. She gulped and shivered hard, suddenly freezing.

"I don't see why we don't just take them all," someone called out.

Constantino chuckled. "The point of our mission isn't annihilation—just taking what we need to survive."

"You know that Jericho isn't going to just sit by while we take their food, their farms," someone else hollered.

"They won't have a choice. If they fight, they die. They can stay in town and utilize the resources of the remaining farms we allow them to use, or they can leave." Constantino hesitated, for what Heather was certain was for dramatic effect.

"We don't _want_ to hurt the people of Jericho," he continued in a more somber voice. "Sure, they wronged us by sending Ravenwood here while protecting themselves. But we aren't the monsters they are. And I don't want to risk a war with them that would cost our town the lives of our citizens. This is why we'll strike hard and fast."

Eric grabbed her hand again and tugged, pulling her away from the locker room meeting. They ran silently back the way they'd come, passed the supply room with the mortars and down the stairwell until they hit the door. Eric opened it slowly, checking for guards. Seeing it was clear, he pushed it open far enough for himself and Heather to slip through. They ran ten yards across the grass and into the woods they would cut through to get back to _Hammond's_. It would take an extra fifteen minutes, but it would be safer.

Heather finally stopped, pulling Eric to a halt with her. Her eyes were wild, bright with fear and stress. "What do we do?"

"You get Stanley and the others and get out of here," he ordered quietly, starting to walk.

She scrambled to catch up. "Me? What about you?"

"I'm staying here."

"What? Why?"

Eric stopped suddenly and Heather nearly slammed into him. He turned and looked down at her. "You said it earlier: we need to stop that machine."

Confused, she shook her head. "Then why didn't we—"

"There's too many of them in there. If we got caught…" he trailed off, not needing to explain why he'd pulled them out of there so quickly.

"Eric, I'm not leaving," Heather said quietly.

He grimaced. "Look, I appreciate you wanting to help, but—"

"You don't get it. New Bern was my home. I probably know half of those men in there. Truth be told, if one of us were to get caught, they'd probably go easier on me." She shifted nervously on her feet. "Maybe."

Eric looked at her sadly. "I wish that were true, but this is a different world. You heard Harry tonight. I don't think 'deal with' you meant a little chat. I think they know you stumbled onto their plan and you might tell us."

"Maybe you're right. But it doesn't change anything. I'm staying. I need to be the one who stops that machine. I helped put it back together. It's only right that I destroy it."

"Poetic justice doesn't mean anything if you get shot," Eric pointed out with a scowl.

"Poetic justice my ass," Heather snapped finally. Her blue eyes flashed in the ethereal glow of the moon. "I've watched you mope around this town for over a week, not giving a damn about anything or anyone. Now all of the sudden you're stepping up to play the martyr. It's not what April would have wanted."

His jaw went slack for a second before tightening with anger. "You don't know a damn thing about me and April," he hissed.

Her expression gentled, but she didn't back down. "Then let's just agree we each have our own reasons for wanting to get this done. Besides, it's safer to do it together. One of us can act as a lookout for the other."

They walked another ten minutes in silence, making their way through the underbrush and over fallen logs as best they could navigate in the dark.

Heather pushed a tree branch aside. "I've been thinking."

Eric gave her a sideways glance.

"I can't go back to town. I know of this abandoned cabin that's out here in the wood. It's about three-quarters of a mile into the woods east of the Town Hall. There's a little creek that runs from the back section of Town Hall right passed it. I'll stay there tonight. You can meet me there in the morning. I think it'd be better if you spent the night in town. Everyone should be getting home from the pub around the time you get into town."

"OK."

"Also, I don't think you should tell Stanley and the others," she said slowly.

He frowned. "Why not? They need to get out of New Bern and—"

"If they leave all of the sudden in the middle of the night," Heather cut in, "they'll know that we're onto them. They would guard the mortars and the machine so heavily we'd never get in. That's if they didn't just move up their timetable and attack Jericho immediately."

Eric digested that. "You're probably right. So what do we tell them?"

"Honestly?" Heather huffed, straddling a fallen oak tree. She grabbed Eric's offered hand for balance. "Thank you," she remarked off-handedly as she found her center on the other side. They kept walking.

"I think that Constantino will push for you guys to leave New Bern—soon. I wouldn't be surprised if he pushes to move you guys out within the week. Whatever they're planning seems to be in the final stages." She hesitated for a moment and thought.

"You need to give them a reason you want to stay. Something they'll believe. Something that Stanley won't see through right away and ask questions about."

Eric thought for a moment. "April," he said softly. So softly she almost didn't hear him.

She gave him a quick look.

"I'll tell Stanley that I'm staying a few extra days in New Bern because of April's…" He sighed quietly and let the sentence die in his throat.

Heath stopped them with a gentle hand on his arm. "Eric, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what happened to April and the baby. And for what I said back there. I had no right to bring her up like that."

Eric shrugged helplessly. "You weren't wrong. April wouldn't want me to go in there recklessly and…" He sighed deeply and gave her a shrug. "Truth is I need you to help me dismantle the machine. We need to put it out of commission permanently. I don't know enough about it to do that."

She gave him a half smile. "I'm sure you could manage."

"Maybe," he conceded with a slight grin, "but it's nice to have a partner."

She nodded. "Partners. I can live with that."


	4. Chapter 4

**Broken & Beautiful**

By: IsisIzabel

**IV**

**-Jericho, Kansas-**

_Present Day_

"Constantino actually said he wanted as little casualties as possible?" Jake asked scathingly, his hatred for the man radiating off him in waves.

Heather touched his shoulder. "I think it was just to save face in front of some of the men who weren't as convinced bombing Jericho was a good idea. Not everyone in New Bern supported attacking Jericho, but no one had the courage to go against Constantino. By saying he didn't want to kill anyone, he showed a humanistic side to himself that helped keep everyone in line."

Jake snorted. "Constantino is anything but _humanistic_."

She nodded, ducking her head. "I know, Jake."

He took several deep breaths, trying to control his rage. It took a few minutes, but he calmed down enough to prompt her into continuing her story.

"I talked to Stanley when he came back with the others," Jake said slowly, his brow furrowed. "He mentioned Eric said he was staying behind because he was having a hard time dealing with April's death."

Heather tucked her legs up on the bench with her, sitting Indian-style beside Jake. Her knee bumped his gently. "We were worried if the others—especially Stanley—found out what we were doing, that they'd want to stay with us." She shook her head slightly, a curtain of brunette hair falling in her eyes. "We couldn't risk their lives, too."

Jake hesitantly settled a hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her through the thin material of her cargo pants. Heather turned her head and looked at him, a grimace on her delicate features.

"When Eric met me at the cabin the next morning after he talked to Stanley, we made a plan. We decided to go back to the factory that night and destroy the machine."

"What went wrong?"

Her lips quirked into an adorable smile. "What makes you think something went wrong?" Her tone was light and teasing.

"The fact that I found my brother in jail, everyone assumed you were dead, and Jericho got hit by several mortars," he replied seriously.

The smile melted. "Oh, yeah. _That_." She sighed and brushed her hair away from her eyes. "That wasn't part of the plan. That was bad timing and bad luck."

***

**-New Bern, Kansas-**

_Five Weeks Earlier_

Heather slowly circled the back end of the machine. She'd already removed several pistons and bolts that she was sure would grind the machine to a halt when it was started up the next morning, but she needed to jam the engine just to be sure. It would take them days—maybe weeks—to replace the missing pistons and bolts, but if she could break the interior of the engine, they'd never be able to finish the mortars.

"Almost done?" Eric whispered from his position by the door. He looked back at her nervously.

"Couple more minutes," she called back softly. She bent at the knee and looked at the interior of the engine. Her hand was just reaching out for a coil when the room was suddenly flooded with light.

She instinctively dropped to the ground. She saw Eric had done the same thing, but he'd found a desk to crouch under. She met his eyes and he motioned furiously for her to crawl to him as the door beside him opened. His hand motions stilled and then slowly instructed her to stay put. She met his eyes and nodded.

"Constantino needs those reports," a clipped voice snapped from the doorway as another pair of booted feet moved across the floor.

Heather realized, too late, that the feet were moving towards her. She was just backing up when a boy—no older than sixteen—rounded the machine and saw her on the floor. His jaw dropped open, and they both froze.

"What is it, Kevin?" the man came further into the room.

Kevin was still staring at Heather, who was slowly getting to her feet, when they heard a grunt and a thud behind them. Heather straightened to her full height and saw Eric had knocked down the other man.

He looked at her, his eyes wide. "Heather, run!"

Adrenaline surged through her body and she started for the exit, but Kevin's hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her back. She heard Eric cry out and saw the other man had landed a punch that left him doubled over.

"Eric!"

She struggled against Kevin's hold, and managed to break free. But her balance was off from the struggle, and she found herself falling. The last thing she saw was the corner of the machine's framework rushing up to meet her. Pain exploded behind her eyes, and then everything was plunged into darkness.

***

Her head was pounding, and she wondered briefly how much tequila she'd been drinking before she'd passed out. Opening her eyes slowly, Heather realized she wasn't home in bed, nursing a hangover, but in a cold jail cell.

She coughed, trying to clear the dust from her throat. The action made her skull feel like it would shatter. She raised a shaking hand to her forehead. It came away sticky from the drying blood.

"Heather?"

She shifted from her position on the floor and saw Eric in the cell across the way. "Eric?" She narrowed her eyes, trying to focus.

"Hey," he called softly across the way. "You OK?"

"My head hurts," she mumbled, forcing herself into a sitting position even as her body screamed in protest.

"You hit it pretty hard," he agreed gently. "Is your vision blurry?"

"A little." She leaned her head back against the cinderblock wall and attempted to shut her eyes.

"Hey, hey. I need you to stay awake," Eric said urgently. "Stay with me, OK?"

"I'm sleepy," she admitted, slightly annoying that he was trying to keep her up. The pounding lessened when she closed her eyes.

"I know, but you may have a concussion. You need to stay awake, OK?"

Pause.

"Heather!" His loud voice boomed across the room.

She opened her eyes, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "OK," she muttered. "Geez, you can tell you were married to a doctor."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. He took it as a good sign she was arguing with him.

Heather blinked several times and looked around. "What time is it?"

"Afternoon, I think."

"Have I been asleep the whole time?"

Eric nodded. "They brought us in here after they found us in the factory."

Her eyes widened. "The big guy. He hit you. Are you OK?"

He almost smiled. Here she was, fighting a concussion and worried about the right-hook he'd caught earlier. "I'm fine," he assured her.

"Are you sure? It looked like he hit you pretty hard and—"

Eric held up a hand. "I may not be Jake, but I can take a punch. I'm fine. Really."

She pursed her lips and looked around again. "Has anyone come in?" She licked her lips, trying to ignore how thirsty she was.

"No. They threw me in here, you in there, and left. I thought I heard someone say something about Constantino, but I can't be too sure."

She was quiet for a long pause. "This is bad, isn't it?" She didn't bother hiding the tremble of fear in her voice.

"Yeah, it is." Eric sounded more resigned than scared.

"I wonder what will happen to the others," she mused aloud.

"I don't know," he answered her honestly. "Heather, listen."

He waited until he was certain he had her full attention before continuing. "I don't know what's going to happen next. But we can't tell them anything, got it?"

Her eyes rounded, her face paling considerably. "Yeah. I got it."

"Also, if you get a chance, you run, OK? Don't wait for me, don't try to help me—you run like hell and don't look back."

Heather's jaw dropped. "Eric, I'm not leaving you. We're in this together, remember? Partners?"

Eric smiled sadly at her. "I know. But we can't be sure Constantino doesn't have Stanley and the others, or if they know what's going on with us. Someone needs to warn Jericho about what's coming."

Something in her stomach twisted, and she was sure she was going to be sick.

"Eric—"

He leaned forward, wrapping his long fingers around the metal bars. He stared intently at her, never breaking eye contact. "Promise me, Heather."

Her eyes filled with tears and she nodded slowly. "I promise."


	5. Chapter 5

**Broken & Beautiful**

By: IsisIzabel

**V**

**-New Bern, Kansas-**

_Five Weeks Earlier_

"How many?" The succinct question was punctuated by another rough shake.

Heather shook her head and looked up at the man through her hair. "I don't know," she answered for the seventh time. Her shoulders ached from the way they were tied behind her.

For the last thirty minutes, the questions had been the same: How many patrols did Jericho have? Where was their weapons supply? How many people were armed?

The man, who had earlier been identified as Larry, sneered down at her. He shook his head slightly before his open palm landed a solid blow to the side of her head. It was the eighth hit she'd taken to the face, and her already pounding head was making her stomach revolt against her.

She swallowed a gag and glared up at him. "Keep it up, and I'm probably going to throw up on you, too." She tried to straighten herself on the metal chair.

Larry's eyes narrowed and he glanced back at his partner, Zach, whose shoes were still streaked with the meager contents of Heather's stomach. The small interrogation room at the New Bern Police Department reeked of vomit and mold.

Zach folded his arms. "It doesn't have to be like this, Heather," he reminded her softly. His eyes were suspiciously soft.

Zach Harding had been the All-American senior when Heather was a freshman at New Bern High School. He'd received a full athletic scholarship thanks to his remarkable gift as a tight-end on New Bern's football team, but he'd blown his knee out the first season at the University of Colorado. By the time Heather was a junior, Zach had been back living with his parents and working at his dad's garage for seven months. It had been the talk of the town for years. The great Zach Harding and what he could have been.

Heather had never suspected New Bern High's _Mostly Likely to Land a Pro Contract_ would one day be her captor. To his credit, only Larry had hit her, and Zach had tried to intervene several times.

"And how does it have to be, Zach?" she returned just as quietly, leveling a gaze at him. "I can't tell you what I don't know!"

Larry smacked the wall behind him. "Yes, you do!"

She whipped her head around to glare at Larry, instantly regretting her rash actions as her head threatened to split in half with pain. "I don't! In case you've forgotten, I've been here with all of you helping to get the factory back up and working! I haven't even in been in Jericho for the last several weeks. How am I supposed to know the changes they've made?"

Larry stared at her thoughtfully and then leaned over her, digging his fingers painfully into her shoulders. Heather cried out, certain she'd have bruises in the morning.

Zach pushed off the wall nervously. "Larry—"

"Shut up, Zach!" Larry ground out between clenched teeth. "This bitch is gonna talk one way or another." He let her shoulders go and landed another solid blow to her face, this time striking her temple. For the second time in as many days, Heather's world went black.

***

Heather had been awake for nearly an hour when Eric was drug in, hanging limply between two men. They unceremoniously dropped him into his cell and walked back out, the metal door clanging loudly as it slammed shut. The men glanced at each other and stood back, watching Eric.

Heather watched, her heart in her throat, praying he wasn't dead. Finally she heard a soft moan and saw him legs move. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and closed her eyes.

Eric was groaning and rolling to his knees when the door to jail opened and Phil Constantino walked in with two deputies. He looked back and forth between them and shook his head.

"I've met stubborn people, but you two take the cake." He took slow steps until he stood directly between their cells. "You must really love Jericho."

Constantino turned and looked at Heather. "And you. I honestly thought you would understand."

She slowly struggled to her feet, holding the bars with white knuckles. "You thought I would understand the slaughter of innocent people?"

He stepped closer to her and jabbed a finger in her direction. "You're from New Bern!"

"That doesn't mean I'm going to let you, or anyone else, kill a bunch of people!" She angrily pushed her hair out of her face. "It doesn't matter if I lived in New Bern, Jericho, or Kansas City. Murder is murder. And that's _exactly _what this is!"

"_This_ is survival!" Constantino roared, his face flushed with rage. He stepped back and took a few calming breaths. "Do you think I _want_ to do this? I have no choice. Without the farms we plan to procure, we'll starve to death in six months. And as long as Jericho surrenders peacefully—"

"Oh, you don't give a damn about Jericho's surrender, and we all know it," Eric hissed, coming to his feet as well.

"He's right," Heather agreed softly. "You might have some of your people convinced that you _have_ to do this. But we all know the truth: you want this."

"You think I want a war on my hands?" Constantino asked stoically, his eyes dark as they shifted between the two prisoners.

"You don't give a rat's ass about how many people you kill," Eric confirmed scathingly. He shook his head, disgusted. "Murder is never acceptable under any circumstance. You're a killer. I know it. You know. Everyone in this room knows it. Pretending to be anything different is pathetic."

Constantino turned and stared blankly at Eric. "I guess you're right, son." He took several small steps to Eric's cell. "Jericho has this coming, and I don't feel much remorse at all."

Eric lifted his chin. "Finally. An honest answer."

Constantino chuckled softly and folded his arms across his chest. "You two just think I'm a jealous, calculating murderer."

Eric didn't reply, but he didn't break Constantino's gaze either. Heather could see his jaw clench in the pale light.

Constantino nodded slowly. "I guess you're right," he repeated quietly, turning away. He paused and looked at Heather.

"Get rid of the girl."

A guard was unlocking her cell before she had time to process his order.

"No!" Eric yelled, his eyes wild. "No! Constantino—"

The guard grabbed Heather by the arm and roughly hauled her out of the cell.

Constantino looked back at Eric and shrugged. "Don't seem so surprised."

Heather felt another guard grab her free arm and she twisted to see Eric's face pressed against the bars.

His hands were shaking. "Constantino, please… Don't do this."

Constantino turned slowly to face Eric. "Tell me what I want to know about Jericho."

Eric's eyes shifted to Heather and his head dropped. "I—"

"Don't you _dare_, Eric!" Heather hissed, struggling against the men that held her. It was futile; they each had a hundred pounds on her.

He lifted his face. She could see the confusion, the conflict that warred in his eyes.

"My life isn't worth hundreds of people in Jericho," she insisted.

Constantino laughed. "How sweet. Truly touching, Heather."

Heather ignored him, only looking at Eric. "Dammit, Eric, he'll kill everyone. Jake, your mom, your dad, children—they'll all die! Don't say a word!"

Eric blinked and a single tear streaked through the dirt caked on his face. "Heather," he whispered.

"Enough!" Constantino barked. He fixed Eric with a hard stare. "What's your answer?"

Eric gave Heather another look. "I'm so sorry, Heather."

"Eric, it's OK," she replied quietly, forcing a smile. She nodded a bit, trying to put on a brave face while inside she thought she would be sick again.

"Well?" Constantino pressed.

Eric turned slowly, his shoulder leaning against the bars as he looked at New Bern's leader. "Go to hell."

Constantino nodded slowly, his lips pursed in a thin line.

"Kill the girl."


	6. Chapter 6

**Broken & Beautiful**

By: IsisIzabel

**VI**

**-Jericho, Kansas-**

_Present Day_

"Jake. _Jake_!"

Jake blinked, suddenly pulled from the image of Constantino ordering Heather's death. His head snapped to the side and he looked at her.

Heather gently touched his shoulder. "You're hurting my leg." She quirked a sideways smile his way and glanced down at the offended limb.

Jake looked down at where his hand had rested against her thigh. It was now gripping her knee in a vise, his knuckles white. He immediately loosened his hold, but didn't make any movement away from her. "I'm sorry—"

Heather chuckled and shook her head, the fading sun catching the golden and crimson highlights in her hair. "It's all right," she assured him. She covered his hand with both of hers.

"What happened after that?" Jake asked, unable to hide the raw edge of emotion in his tone.

Heather's lips curved into a rueful smile. "I was taken out of the cell and a hood was thrown over my head. I was driven several miles out of town to where they were supposed to kill me."

"But they didn't."

"No, they didn't. I was so sure I was going to die. But when I got out of the car and they took the hood off my head, the guy Constantino ordered to shoot me was this guy named Joey Warner."

"I know that name," Jake mused, thinking.

"His dad owns the bait and tackle store in New Bern? He was captain of the soccer team his senior year. He lived a few streets down from me as kids, and he dated my best friend, Katie, when we were in high school."

Realization dawned on Jake suddenly. "There was an accident. I remember reading about it in the paper. Some kids got drunk after graduation and crashed a Toyota. Two of them died. Joey Warner—"

"—was driving," Heather confirmed softly. "Katie died that night. And my friend, Mark."

Jake waited. Unease settled in his stomach as he continued to stare at Heather and she stubbornly refused to look up, even when he squeezed her knee gently.

"Joey and I were the only ones that made it out alive. Car wrapped around a telephone pole three miles outside of New Bern on Highway 80." Heather raked a hand through her hair. "Joey was messed up after the accident. I hardly spoke to him, and he never went to either funeral. Imagine my surprise when the hood was yanked off and there he was."

"He let you go."

Heather nodded grimly. "Barely said a word. Just told me to give him my jacket—some kind of proof for Constantino, that I guess he gave Eric—and told me to run. It was like he wanted to say more, but couldn't. And I didn't exactly feel like waiting around for him to change his mind, so I ran."

Heather unconsciously laced her fingers with Jake's. "I must've walked seven miles before this family pulled up alongside of me. I can't even figure out why they stopped, but they agreed to give me a ride—they were heading to Topeka. I figured that I could get to the one-oh-eight bypass and hike the last four miles to Jericho. We didn't even make a mile before two trucks drove us off the road."

She sighed softly. "They left us all for dead. Hell, I thought I _was_ dead until that military convoy came by and picked me up. I tried getting them to take me back to Jericho—I told them what New Bern was planning."

Jake's eyes widened. "That's why the military showed up?"

Heather shrugged. "They weren't going to go originally. Then the commander got some kind of intel and they packed up fast and headed for Jericho. They shipped me off to Cheyenne with the other civilians."

"But not before you warned them about what New Bern was planning," Jake added gently, grateful. "As bad as it had been, it would have been worse had the government not intervened when they had. Heather, you probably saved hundreds of lives. Mine included."

She bit her lower lip. "Jake—"

He covered her hand with his. "No, really. Thank you." He held her gaze with his for several beats.

She shook her head. "I was so afraid it would be too late. I was sure they had killed Eric, too, and Jericho would be caught off-guard."

"We didn't have much warning, but Eric gave us some."

"How did he escape, anyway?" She tilted her head curiously, awaiting his answer.

Jake grinned at her. "Hawkins and I went and got him out."

Heather's jaw dropped open for a fraction of a second before she tossed her head back and laughed aloud. It only took a moment before Jake was laughing with her.

"I missed that," Jake said as they quieted. "Your laugh."

Heather couldn't stop the blush that crept up her face.

Jake instantly caught on and nudged her with his shoulder. "And the way you blush."

"Cleary Jennings and Rall are putting something in the water around here," Heather scoffed, trying to deflect his attention.

Jake wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. "I really did miss you, Heather."

"I missed you, too," Heather returned, trying to ignore the way her heart threatened to gallop out of her chest. She turned her head and realized their noses were inches apart. Her breath caught as Jake leaned in to her, resting his forehead against hers.

They lingered for a second, eyes closed, before Jake pulled back and pressed a kiss to her brow. "I hate to go, but…"

Heather's smile was easy. "Same old Jake: off to save the day."

Jake stood slowly. "You know, Emily's at my house if you want to stop by and see her."

Heather stiffened at his announcement, but she fought to keep her smile in tact. "Yeah, OK. Maybe later? I want to get to my apartment… get settled, you know?"

"Right," Jake nodded quickly, his eyes still trained on her face. He extended a hand. "I can walk you home."

She looked at his hand, aching to take in hers, but instead she shook her head. "Actually, I think I'm going to sit here a minute and just take it easy."

His hand fell against his leg. "OK. I'll check in with you later." He ended as a statement, leaving no room for argument. She was sure she could expect a visit from Jake within the next twenty-four hours.

Maybe by then she would have her emotions back in check.

"Sounds like a plan," Heather agreed, leaning back against the bench. She watched as Jake walked back to Town Hall, turning to wave at her briefly before he went inside.

Heather sighed and shook her head again, trying to quell the raging storm of emotions that were currently threatening to drag her under. Emily was living with Jake. That had to mean they were back together, and probably on a permanent basis. That thought settled uneasily in the pit of her stomach.

"Doesn't look like being the Prodigal Daughter's that much fun," a low voice drawled from beside her.

Heather turned in time to see Eric sliding into Jake's vacant seat.

"What's that?" She smiled at him, welcoming his visit.

Eric looked knowingly at her. "I know that look. Something's bugging you."

"I'm finally home," Heather said brightly. "What could be wrong?"

"That _is_ the question, isn't it?" Eric agreed, not letting her upbeat tone trick him. "Talk to me."

"About what?" she asked evasively.

Eric chuckled. "We can start with whatever's bothering you, and then how you managed to get out of New Bern."

"The latter's easier than the former," she murmured.

"So start there," Eric encouraged. "I've got time."

Heather gave him a similar explanation to the one she'd given Jake. She recounted the story and watched as relief spread across his features, softening them.

"God, Heather, I was so sure you were dead," Eric muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands.

"I was afraid you were, too," she admitted quietly, leaning against his shoulder. "Kind of glad you're not, though."

Eric cracked a smile. "Yeah, me too." He sighed. "So, _now_ tell me what's bothering you."

"It's nothing," Heather said quickly. "Really. Just me being stupid and getting my hopes up for something I had no right hoping for."

"What'd my brother do this time?" Eric demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"I—what? Who said it was Jake?" Heather sputtered.

Eric's look was kind. "Come on, Heather. I think you and I both know that you and Jake have this…connection. Or whatever."

She grimaced in return. "I think the connection you're referring to is the one he has with Emily. The blonde living at your house?"

Eric sighed loudly. "God, my brother's dense, you know that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure Jake mentioned her living at the house, but neglected to tell you that she moved _herself_ into the house."

Heather didn't bother hiding her confusion. "What?"

Eric rolled his eyes. "Heather, Emily showed up two weeks ago with her bags and said she needed a place to crash. Jennings and Rall requisitioned several dozen houses in her development—hers included—and Emily decided our house was a good place to stay. She's been living in the _guest_ room."

Heather's eyes slid shut. "I just assumed…"

"You assumed wrong," Eric replied with a grin. "Although, it's not from a lack of trying on her part, but I think Jake's put that part of his life behind him."

"Really?" Heather pressed, unsure.

"Do you trust me?" Eric asked with a casual shrug.

"Of course." She answered him without hesitation. After all they had been through, Heather trusted Eric implicitly.

"Then there's your answer. Heather, you deserve to be happy. And so does my brother. I think you two are good for each other."

"Yeah?" she quipped lightly.

"You should have seen his face when I told him you were dead," Eric murmured, his tone grave.

Heather turned her face slowly to see Eric. She could read the somber note in his eyes.

"I've seen my brother upset, Heather. But he looked… devastated. Don't be offended, but I didn't think he'd react as strongly as he did. It surprised me," Eric confided.

Heather nodded slowly, trying to digest what Eric had told her. She had hoped Jake felt something for her, but hearing Eric verbalize it made it real. The realness shook her on a level she hadn't explored in a while. But there was no denying she was happy to know Jake returned her feelings.

"Want me to walk you home?" Eric offered softly.

"You don't have to," Heather replied with a smile, meeting his gaze.

"True." He grinned at her as he stood up. "But I want to anyway."

Heather got to her feet beside him. "Thanks, Eric." She stood on her tip toes and hugged him.

Eric returned her hug and then pulled away, motioning for her to lead the way. "After you, partner."


End file.
